There was a note in her voice which he
had never heard before, a note which conveyed to him the fact that she
was no longer a girl, but a woman.
"Upon my soul, I don't know why you ask! Well, well!"--she had
repeated the impatient gesture. "I haven't made up my mind yet. He
wants me to join him. I could be of service to him; on the other hand,
I could--yes, get in his way; for I know some of the points of the game
he is playing. Yes, I could help him--or spoil him."
"And which are you going to do?" she asked, in a low voice, her eyes
veiled, her lips drawn straight.
Falconer laughed grimly. "I don't know. It all depends. Which would you
do?" he asked, half sarcastically.
She was silent for a moment, then she said: "You knew Sir Stephen some
time ago--years ago, father?"
Falconer nodded. "I did," he said, shortly.
"And you were friends, and you quarrelled?"
He looked at her with an air of surprise.
"I saw you both when you stood opposite each other after the carriage
accident," she said, coolly. "I am not blind, and I am not particularly
stupid. It didn't strike me at the time that there had been anything
wrong between you, but I have since seen you look at Sir Stephen,
and--you have an expressive face sometimes, oh, my father!"
He grinned grimly.
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